Sunrise
by uoduck
Summary: Harry lands in King's Landing the night before the Lannisters arrive to sack it. Pre-relationship. Bisexual Harry Potter. Pre Elia/Jaime/Harry.


Harry didn't know what to expect when he landed on a stone floor, tired and weary after the start of another war. He had been backed into a corner, his wand held in a tightly knuckled grip and then several spells had been cast his way. And now… he blinked, rubbing his eyes as his surroundings steadied around him.

He looked to be in a… legitimate looking throne room, with the throne being… His eyes widened as he took in the throne, a big, monstrous thing shaped with melted swords and metal. The man on the throne looked… really not like a king. Matted hair, very long fingernails that had probably never seen nail clippers for months, long, and a matted beard that was filled with dirt and… specks of blood.

Harry wrinkled his nose, seeing the man's purple eyes widen as he spotted Harry. There was one younger man standing behind the throne and he looked like a medieval knight, only a lot more sleep deprived. He wore a white cloak and sturdy looking mail armor, a shiny sword at his hip. And there was a far away look in his green eyes, one that Harry had often seen on his friends, one that meant they'd rather be far, far away from here. A look that meant the man wanted to be anywhere but here, a look that meant the young man had been through some shit.. One that Harry had often seen in the mirror.

"Another traitor! Get him away from me! Guards!"

Harry blinked, standing up on shaky legs before taking a step back.

"Your Grace…"

"Get the gold cloaks! Get this man away from me!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, palming his wand, and backed away as guards came rushing into the throne room. These were men wearing gold cloaks, thus the name apparently, and carrying swords too… "I don't think I'm in England anymore."

"Come with us, ser. You do not belong here in the Red Keep."

Harry stared at one of them, the man who had approached him, his hand on his sword. "Uh… There's been a misunderstanding. I'm not a traitor or here to do harm to you folk."

"You're a spy from the North or one of the Valemen. Lock him up!"

The men in the gold cloaks, guards, all surrounded him at once, two putting their hands on him, tight and firm, as they tugged him away from the king. Harry hesitated briefly, pondering whether or not he should do something before deciding to roll with it. He could after all apparate out of any situation if it came to that though with the new country and territory he was in, he would rather not. Who knows where he would land, maybe in the depths of a lake or inside a mountain.

"Burn him!"

Harry stopped, turned around and stared incredulously at the man on the throne. "Seriously? You just… I just appeared here! You're going to burn me at the stake?!"

The man on the throne stood up and gestured wildly at him. "He's a spy!"

He let the armed guards tug him back through the throne room and out through the door only to run into a woman. The woman was beautiful, of darker skin than Harry's was, and long, beautiful black hair. Her skin however was pale and her dark eyes had bags underneath them, making him wince. Both this woman and the younger man back in the throne room had bags underneath their eyes, their shoulders curled inward and their eyes haunted.

Her light, colorful dress curled around her form, the material looking soft and comfortable. He could see suns stitched into it, little golden suns all over the fabric.

The woman's dark eyes caught his and widened. "Captain, what is going on?"

"We caught another traitor in the throne room, my lady."

Harry blinked. "I'm not a traitor, for fuck's sake. I just landed here from… Well, it's a long story but I'm not in the mood to kill anyone! I don't know anyone here!"

The woman grimaced at his words but her eyes did light in curiosity, that much Harry could tell. "Captain, where are you taking this man?"

"We have orders to imprison him. We have to be quick about it though. Our scouts saw riders on the road, an army."

"Who?" The woman asked, crossing her arms and taking a deep breath before swaying in place. Harry stared at her, seeing all the color in her face drain away, her body start to tremble. Her knees buckled and Harry immediately waved his hand, blasting away the guards and closing the distance between him and the woman, wrapping a gentle arm around her waist. He kept his arms lose in case she wanted him off but she didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow. She blinked, staring at him and then breathed a deep sigh, leaning into his side a little.

"Are you alright?"

"Who are you?" The woman questioned as she stared out at the guards he had shaken off. They were all on the stone floor, groaning and twitching on the ground. Perhaps he had put too much power into that quick spell but as he looked at the woman, he thought it had been worth it. She felt thin through the clothes they were both wearing, weary and light.

"Harry Potter. And you are..."

"Princess Elia Martell, wife to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen."

Her dark eyes narrowed before she sighed out a deep exhale. "I am no longer his wife though as he died a fortnight ago."

Elia took a step away from him, her eyes narrowing. "How came you to be here? You look as if you are a Lannister, with your green eyes, but you have the dark hair of a northerner or a Baratheon. I do not recognize you."

"I just landed in the throne room," Harry explained, watching as the guards all began to stand up. They were all wearing armor with a three-headed dragon on the front, perhaps the sigil of… "Where am I and who was that man on the throne? Surely he's not… king?"

Elia shook her head, grimacing in distaste. "King Aerys II Targaryen. He is my good-father. I…"

"Good-father?"

Elia stared at him as Harry watched her, both of them looking into each other's eyes.

"You are in Westeros, in King's Landing, the capital," Elia murmured, shrugging. "I was to be Rhaegar's queen and yet…"

"You said this Rhaegar person was dead."

"He died two weeks ago and King Aerys went even more mad at the loss of his first son," Elia explained, glancing at the closed doors where Harry had come out of. "He even skipped over naming my Aegon as his heir when by all rights it should have been Rhaegar's son."

Harry blinked. "I'm really not in London anymore. Kings? Westeros? Very well. I'm just... going to roll with this. I heard the king speak of rebels. Who's rebelling and why should I support a king who's gone mad?"

Elia sighed, her body trembling. Harry wanted to go over and help but from her expression, she wouldn't welcome it right now.

"It all started because of the wolf girl," Elia whispered, backing up a little and walking over to sit on the bench on the opposite side of the hall. Harry followed and hesitantly sat down next to her, looking up and down the hallway. "Lyanna Stark. My husband thought she was prettier than me. Fire and Ice, I suppose. He wanted a third child too and I cannot give him another, due to my health."

"Fuck him. You're beautiful," Harry retorted, turning to look at Elia. There was no one else in the hall except for a few guards in the same colors, red and black. "Back where I'm from, anyone would marry you, including me. But back to the subject at hand."

Elia stared at him, her lips twitching up into a small grin. It seemed like she hadn't smiled in a while, her smile not making it to her eyes. "Thanks."

"You are most welcome. Fire and Ice? You said that the king's last name is Targaryen. Is that…"

"House Targaryen. Their words are Fire and Blood and their sigil is a three-headed dragon. My children, Rhaenys and Aegon are of House Targaryen," Elia said, leaning back against the stone wall behind them. "They are my world and I thought… I thought he loved them."

Harry flinched at Elia's weary voice. "He wasn't… like the king, was he?"

"No, of course not. Aerys… He went mad a long time ago and Rhaegar… I believed he would have removed his father from the throne after the tourney at Harrenhal. But…"

"May I meet your children? At least, for a first step. They sound wonderful."

Elia turned to look at him, studying him and perhaps taking his number before dipping her head in a nod. "The rebels are moving south as we speak and mayhaps you have come at the right time."

Harry raised an eyebrow, standing up before the woman next to him and offering her a hand. "Princess Elia… What do you mean?"

"My babes and I are hostages," Elia whispered, reaching out her hand to take Harry's. He helped her up, steadying her before letting her lead. Her arm was warm in his and the fabric soft. Her long hair was loose against her back, splayed out and tamed. Harry envied her that, envied her the smooth hair that didn't resist any attempt to brush it back. "What can you do?"

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Harry questioned as they walked south in the hallway and right over to a set of stairs. "Do you have any allies?"

Elia pulled Harry to a stop in the midst of the stairs and stared at him. "House Tyrell. House Velaryon."

"Only two houses?"

"House Tyrell leads the Reach as Wardens of the South, with near 70,000 men. They are laying siege to Storm's End though."

"And Storm's End is…"

"Seat of the stormlands and House Baratheon. It's not too far, mayhaps a half day's ride. What are you thinking?"

"Elia… Your Grace-"

"You can call me Elia. I haven't met a friendly person in a while and it has just been Ser Jaime and me for two weeks," Elia whispered, grimacing and inhaling sharply. "This war started nine moons ago and I am tired."

"You look as if… Forgive me for asking this but are you alright?" Harry questioned, taking a gentle hold of Elia's hand. "I don't want to pry."

"It is alright. I… just gave birth to my son before this war started. The birth… nearly killed me."

"Got it. I have three years worth of healing lessons under my robes. I could take a look at you, if you wanted."

Elia raised an eyebrow, glanced down to their entwined fingers. "Healing?"

As Elia watched, Harry spoke a few words under his breath, the language something that she wasn't familiar with. A bright, blue mist flowed from his fingers and flowed into the form of a great stag, a ghostly creature. The stag stood in front of them, proud and… "It feels… safe."

Warmth and safety radiated from the creature and Elia breathed a deep sigh, uncurling her shoulders and taking another deep breath. The stag whinnied, a ghostly sound, and loped around them. She felt nothing from it aside from warmth, safety and protection, things she had not felt since Rhaegar had taken off and Robert had rebelled.

"It's a patronus, warding against dark creatures. It also serves as a messenger if needed."

Elia stared at the creature of light before nodding. "Harry, if you can do this, might I ask a favor of you?"

"Right now, anything. I don't have anything else I can do for now."

"Take my children and I to safety to Dorne."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he thought. "Elia, you say your children, either Rhaenys or Aegon, are the rightful heir to the throne. Why not seat one on the throne now? You could have a council to rule until one of them is of age."

Elia blinked, her eyes narrowing in thought too. Her hand was still in Harry's and she caught his eyes and held. "You would help us?"

"Yes. You've been fucked over by your ex. I mean no offense but your children are healthy, I assume, and even though I've only known you for ten minutes, I think one of them would be suited for the throne."

"Under Dornish inheritance law, Rhaenys would be the heir to the throne. For the rest of Westeros, it would be Aegon."

"You are from somewhere called Dorne then?"

"I am Princess Elia Martell, of Sunspear. Sunspear is the capital of Dorne and the seat of House Martell. And I am the second Martell princess to wed a Targaryen."

"Where I'm from, in most places, inheritance law is equal. The country where I'm from has a queen and she's ruled for a long, long time. She's respected and no one, at least anymore, gives a single shit that she's a woman. Has Westeros ever had a queen before?"

"No. There was Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen but she was not a good example and she only ruled for half a year. It's all been men."

Harry stared at her, eyes wide, before he grinned. "I think it's about time Westeros had a queen then."

Elia stared at Harry, a slow smile forming on her face. "I would gladly accept your help then."

"And perhaps sometime after this blows over, you and I could visit Dorne?"

Elia nodded, smiling at the thought. "You will like Dorne, I think. It's beautiful there."

"Good. Now… since I've only been here for twenty minutes, where the fuck do we start? I need a map and a further explanation."

Elia let out a surprised laugh and hooked her arm through his, tugging him in the direction of the small council room.

* * *

"Lord Varys, may we have the room?" Elia questioned, glancing to the bald, middle aged man that stood opposite them.

"That is the man that the king said appeared in the throne room," Varys remarked, looking to Harry, his eyes lit in curiosity and Elia could see more than a little greed for knowledge in him. "Why is he with you?"

"I would like to help Princess Elia and her children," Harry offered, shrugging and gesturing the maps and books on the table. "But first, I need to know the layout of the country and who's fighting for whom."

"Your Grace, is he suggesting putting Aegon on the throne?" Varys asked, looking between them, his eyes narrowing in thought. There was no hesitance in his voice or body language; he only took a step towards them. He had his arms crossed in front of him, his hands hidden within the sleeves.

"He wants to help put Rhaegar's first born child on the throne," Elia said, sparing a glance to Harry at her side. "He comes from a place that has equal inheritance laws, just like Dorne. Rhaenys will sit on that throne."

Varys raised an eyebrow, finally turning to look at Harry.

"Where do you come from then? I saw you arrive to the throne room, right in front of the Iron Throne."

"From a place called England. We have a queen there who has been the monarch for 65 years," Harry explained, as he walked over to the table and glanced over some of the scrolls on it. Elia watched as his green eyes lit on a map and his fingers traced over the houses. Harry rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt and Elia's eyes narrowed as she saw the scarring on his right hand. "Westeros. House Targaryen has ruled for how long?"

"There have been 17 Targaryen kings on the throne since Aegon the First conquered it 283 years ago," Varys replied, grimacing briefly. "I would not like to see Lord Baratheon take the throne if I can help it."

Harry nodded, his fingers trailing over the map. "Elia, you said that House Tyrell is fighting for the Targaryens? Where are they right now?"

"They are still laying siege to Storm's End, the seat of House Baratheon, in the stormlands. If you are looking for allies, House Velaryon at Driftmark is here," Varys said, stepping over to the table and pointing at one of the two islands that were near King's Landing. "Velaryon strength is at sea and they are at Dragonstone currently."

"Is Storm's End likely to yield?" Harry questioned, looking between Elia and Varys.

Elia shook her head, bringing her hand up to cover a yawn. Harry stared at her and then flicked a finger at one of the more comfortable chairs, making it move towards her as if it was floating through the air. The chair settled behind her and then Harry turned back to the map.

"It has never been conquered before," Elia answered, appreciating Harry's quiet assistance. "Its walls are too thick."

"Send for the Reach soldiers," Harry said. "They're just wasting time and resources waiting out something that will never happen then. How do you communicate here?"

"Ravens. I'll send one right now," Varys said, bowing to them both. "I do not think I trust Grand Maester Pycelle to do it. What should we do with the king?"

Elia blinked and stared at Varys before turning to look at Harry.

"The king… Lock him in a room? Do you… want me to deal with him? Or is there a better person for the job?"

"The Hand of the King would have been," Elia said. "But Aerys chose Rossart, a pyromancer. He was the one who…"

"Who what?" Harry questioned softly, looking between them both. "You just went pale."

"Wisdom Rossart is the one who burned Lord Rickard Stark to death," Varys finished, before turning to go out.

Harry's cheeks lost color and his eyes widened. "Hand of the King… That sounds like second in command, right? He… burned someone to death?"

"The Hand of the King is the chief advisor to the king and executor of the king's commands," Elia explained. "Rossart is the grand master of the alchemist's guild in King's Landing and he burned Rickard Stark and had Brandon Stark strangled on the king's orders."

Elia wrapped her arms around herself at the memory, hearing Brandon Stark's screams as if the burning had taken place just an hour ago, not nine moons ago.

"Right… Not the person to do this then. What about the young man behind the king? What is his job?"

"Ser Jaime Lannister is a knight of the kingsguard. The kingsguard is a group of knights who guard the king but Jaime is… He's exhausted," Elia offered, sighing at the thought of the young man. They would have wed, if Elia's mother hadn't arranged her marriage to Rhaegar. And now… she didn't know how Jaime was still on his feet, being the only knight of the kingsguard in King's Landing. He had to guard the king, guard Elia and her children at the same time. "He's been guarding King Aerys, me and my children by himself. We would have been wed if not for my mother."

Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded, staying quiet. "Alright. If Varys is sending a raven, I'll go escort the king to a room. Are there other guards who can… guard him?"

"The goldcloaks. They can be bribed though," Elia said.

"I'll just ward the room then. Elia, what does Varys do around here?"

"He's the master of whispers," Elia explained. "His job is to know everything the king does not."

"A spy then. Good to know." Harry looked around at the small council room and then nodded. "Here I go then. You can stay here if you wish."

"I will go with you."

Harry nodded, palming a piece of wood before dropping it in one of his pockets. Elia fell into step beside him as they strode through the doors and down a hallway. She saw Harry look out the windows, seeing the courtyard of the Red Keep and Maegor's Holdfast. The sun had traveled high into the sky, shining through homes below the Red Keep and making them look like they were on fire.

"What was that piece of wood in your hands?" Elia questioned quietly, as they walked towards the door that would lead into the throne room.

"It's my wand. The wizards and witches in my world use them to channel their magic," Harry explained, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "But I… I don't need to use a wand anymore."

Elia turned to look at him as they stopped before the door to the throne room. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, his eyes narrowing in thought before he pushed open the doors and stepped inside. "And on top of that, the magic here is… weak. It's like walking through sludge almost."

* * *

Harry took in the broad throne room, seeing the skulls of what he figured were dragons, the big throne, and the king on it. Ser Jaime Lannister, a knight, stood next to the king and throne while an older man, perhaps Rossart stood on the other side. Just an hour ago, he had appeared in the middle of this room, bewildered and exhausted himself. There was no one else in the throne room but for the three men.

Now he was about to dethrone a king and replace him with a three year old girl. Now he had a princess on his arm, a 26 year old Princess Elia Martell. The young woman looked radiant, her long dark hair smooth on her back and a gown of gold silk. When Harry had first seen her, her shoulders had been curled inward, drooped, and now… there was life in her again.

"Your Grace, it is time for you to step down," Elia remarked, as soon as they stopped before the throne. Harry stood beside her and his eyes narrowed as he studied the king, seeing the crazed look in his eyes. He wondered if Aerys had been always been crazy and hoped that he hadn't been. Though maybe if he always had been crazy, there would probably have been a rebellion far sooner. Or at least he figured.

"King Aerys, you are not stable enough for the throne," Harry spoke, studying the Iron Throne and the individual swords that created it. "You will be moved to a room and locked in for the time being."

Aerys stared down at the two of them, his eyes wide and crazy. Harry hadn't had a lot of time to really study the king but now that he did… Aerys made an unpleasant picture to look at, with his fingernails overgrown to maybe about 7 inches longer than they were supposed to be and his hair unwashed. There were bits of matted blood in his silver hair and dirt that made the strands of hair look grey or almost black. And there were bits of… what looked like ash in his beard too, which made Harry flinch at the implication.

There were cuts all across the visible skin on Aerys' hands and arms and Harry wondered if the throne itself had done that. Aerys was also so thin that he looked days away from appearing emaciated. Harry wondered why he looked like that, pondering his own experience in the war. He supposed that the king might think everyone was out to get him and thus didn't trust his food. Though there were probably food tasters for the job, he thought. There were a few days where he, Ron and Hermione had gone with only two meals a day or even only one, as they were on the run.

But Aerys likely hadn't participated in a war or fight in a long time or at all. The king's purple eyes were crazed as he stared at Harry and Elia.

"How dare you! Ser Jaime! Guards! I am the King! Take the rebels away! They mean to poison me!"

Harry took a step forward, seeing Elia shake her head at Jaime, who then didn't move from where he was next to the throne. Aside from Jaime, there were no other guards in the room, which Harry appreciated. "You are no longer fit to be king, Aerys."

Aerys hissed out something in a different language and Harry took another step, reaching for his magic. Harry stared at the king for a minute more and then closed the distance between them quickly, climbing the steps up to the throne and reaching out to tap the king's forehead. He thought of the incantation for a sleeping charm in his mind and the king keeled over into his arms. Harry wrinkled his nose at the scent that the man radiated and then walked back down, seeing Elia's shoulders uncurl from their tense position.

"Did you kill him?" Elia whispered, as Harry walked over to her.

"No, he's just asleep. He's _thin," _Harry muttered, turning to look at Jaime Lannister, as the man walked over to them, his green eyes wide.

Ser Jaime Lannister looked between Elia and Harry, dropping his hand to the sword at his waist before heaving a great sigh. "Who… are you?"

"You can call me Harry. Now… which room should I stick him in? It needs to be defensible and with no one else in it."

"You can put him in the king's room. Queen Rhaella lives in another section of Maegor's Holdfast and she isn't here anyway," Elia answered, her black eyes narrowed in thought. "I am glad we are doing this, if only for Rhaella's sake. Aerys has raped her for too long."

Harry grimaced and followed Elia, hearing Jaime fall into step with the princess too. "How long has he been like this? And why wasn't he stopped earlier?"

"I… asked Jon Darry," Jaime murmured hesitantly between them. "He said the kingsguard is sworn to protect the king and queen but not from each other. I didn't…"

Elia inhaled sharply and glanced to Jaime before sighing. "I am glad you were the one left with us, Ser Jaime, even if you had to listen to them."

"Marital rape isn't accepted where I'm from and it shouldn't be accepted here, regardless if it's between the king and queen," Harry said, shaking his head at the thought.

"They were brother and sister," Elia explained. "The Valyrians are used to wedding brother to sister. I will not be having Rhaenys wed to Aegon even if the king demands it of them."

Harry blinked, stopping to stare at Elia. "The king and queen were siblings?"

"That's the way it's always been, between Targaryens," Elia said, her dark eyes narrowed and weary. "Except for a few, sister has wed brother ever since Aegon the Conqueror wed his sisters. It's what led to Maegor, Aenys, Aerys and Baelor. Incest."

Harry noted Jaime's frown at Elia's words. "It looks like I could do with a history lesson soon then."

They left the throne room and headed up a set of stairs and then out through a door. A moat lay between them and another thicker set of walls of what looked like a keep. As they traversed across the drawbridge, Harry glanced down into the moat, expecting to see water and seeing deadly iron spikes instead. The spikes rather looked rusty enough that they looked bloody or maybe that was just his imagination.

The king was still asleep in Harry's arms as they stepped into what Elia had called Maegor's Holdfast. Elia led them to the king's rooms and Harry placed the king down onto the bed, laying him in a way that he would not choke on his own saliva before stepping out of the room. He pressed his hand to the door and muttered a few warding spells, his magic covering the walls and windows of the room. The blue warding magic encased the king's rooms, shining brightly before sinking into the thick stone.

No one would get out of those rooms without Harry knowing about it. Aerys was the only person who was stuck in the rooms but everyone else could go in and out as they pleased. He knew that as a member of the kingsguard, Jaime would need to be able to get in and then servants would need to go in to feed the man too.

Both Elia and Jaime stared at him, their eyes wide, before Jaime shuddered, his body trembling. Harry's eyes narrowed, seeing Jaime's breathing quicken and grow shallow, and took a step closer to the man, catching him as his knees buckled.

Elia caught Harry's startled eyes as Jaime fell, watching as the wizard caught him. Harry wrapped his arms around Jaime, one cupping his neck gently. "Jaime?"

"I… It's over," Jaime whispered, burrowing into Harry's chest.

"You were running on fumes," Harry remarked quietly, before using one hand to carefully pull Jaime more fully into his arms. Jaime was thin and Harry could feel the way his body was trembling even now, with exhaustion and maybe hunger too. Elia had said it had been two weeks since the other knights of the kingsguard had left so that would mean that Jaime had been the only one guarding four people, two of which were kids and one of which was a crazed man. "I can take care of the princess and her children now. You need to get some sleep."

"Here, he can sleep in my rooms," Elia said, reaching out to entwine her fingers with Jaime's left hand. He looked over to her, his eyes dull with exhaustion. "There's no one around to say you can't. Come on. And Harry can meet Rhaenys and Aegon."

Jaime looked at her and then nodded, letting out a deep sigh, his eyes catching Harry's.

"You're from House Lannister, right?" Harry questioned quietly as Elia led the way to her rooms. "I saw that on the map."

"Yes."

"Lions are my favorite animal," Harry replied, winking down at Jaime, whose cheeks reddened. Jaime's eyes drooped closed once, twice, and then stayed closed as soft little snores filled the hall.

Elia let out a quiet laugh and left them to the west wing of the keep. "It is good to see that he can sleep. He's been guarding us for two weeks now and has not been able to get much sleep in between."

They ended up at the end of the keep, turning to the right at a fork.

"That way leads to what was my husband's room," Elia whispered, nudging the door in front of them open and walking in ahead of Harry and Jaime. "Rhaenys! Aegon!"

"Mother!"

"You can put him on my bed over there," Elia said, gesturing to the big bed at the other end of the room.

Harry nodded and hastened over towards the bed, lowering Jaime down onto it gently and slipping off his armor. He put the sword out of reach of any children, on a high bookshelf, and the armor itself at the foot of the bed before turning around to meet Elia's children.

The girl looked to be three years old, with curly dark hair that mirrored Elia's and light purple eyes. Her bright grin made Harry grin too as she came racing up to Elia, her arms outstretched to be picked up. The boy toddled along behind his sister, two years younger than her, with curls of silver hair on his head. Harry stood still and watched as Elia picked up her daughter, her arms tight around Rhaenys' waist.

"Rhaenys, this is Harry," Elia said, using one arm to hold Rhaenys while reaching down with the other to hold Aegon's hand. "Harry, this is Rhaenys Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen."

Harry held out his hand to Rhaenys, who looked him over suspiciously from where Elia was holding her. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, who they intended on putting on the throne when it came to that time. "It's nice to meet you, sweetheart. I've heard a lot about you already."

Rhaenys stared at him, her purple eyes wide, and then she reached out her hand. "Just Harry?"

Harry smiled wider, remembering saying that to Hagrid when he was all of 11 and just finding out he was a wizard. "Yes, just Harry. Or if we're being Westerosi, Harry of House Potter."

Rhaenys frowned and then nodded. "Are you here to protect us? Will Jaime be alright? What's happening?"

Harry grinned and peered down at Aegon, who was watching them from on the floor. "That's a lot of questions for a three year old. Hello, Aegon."

Aegon looked up at him and then reached out to tug his pants leg. Harry understood that signal easily enough and knelt down, wrapping his arms about the boy and picking him up. Aegon stared at him quietly for a minute or two before leaning against him and falling asleep too. Harry grinned and turned to look at Rhaenys and Elia.

"He takes after his father, I presume?" Harry asked, glancing to Elia, who was watching him. Her eyes had gone soft as Harry supported her son. It was late in the afternoon so Harry figured it was around Aegon's nap time. He rubbed circles on the boy's back, hearing him snuffle a little. He grinned and made sure Aegon was comfortable.

"He does. His father… was a complicated man," Elia answered.

"I've known a few complicated men," Harry offered, seeing Elia smile at Rhaenys. "They can be… difficult."

"Is Aegon going to be king now?" Rhaenys questioned, looking between Elia and Harry. Her eyes seemed to take in everything, studying every new inch of space.

"You are to be Queen, sweetling," Elia spoke, holding her daughter's hand. "Harry is going to help us."

Rhaenys' eyes widened a little. "Me? Queen?"

"Yes. You are Aegon's older sibling, right?" Harry confirmed.

Rhaenys nodded. "But…"

"Where I'm from, a lot of people have a queen as their monarch," Harry explained slowly, frowning in thought. "It's time for Westeros to have the same."

Rhaenys shrugged. "Alright. But I'm only 3."

"Your mother will be Queen Regent. I can be-"

"Hand of the Queen," Elia interrupted, catching Harry's eyes. "You will be Hand of the Queen."

"Oh… I don't…"

"You'll speak for me?" Rhaenys questioned, peering at him. She blinked at him in question.

Harry rubbed a hand across his forehead but nodded. "Of course I will. I suppose you two would appreciate having someone who is only loyal to you and your mother."

Elia grinned. "Thank you."

* * *

Jaime woke up to the blinds being drawn in the windows, causing streams of sunlight to engulf him. He reached out his arms to stretch and hit someone or something, blinking his eyes fully open and looked over the bed, startling at the sight that met him. He was in Princess Elia's bed, with Rhaenys and Aegon in the same bed too. The man who had upturned their lives was lying on the bed too, the edge of the bed near the door.

"You slept a long time," Harry whispered, yawning and scrubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was shirtless, with only loose pants on that didn't look like any kind of material that Jaime knew of. The man opposite Jaime was muscular and had a few scars spread out over his chest, including one on his forehead. The scar on Harry's forehead looked like a lightning bolt, forking downward on his skin, pointing to his eyes. Harry's green eyes were bright as he looked at him, raising an eyebrow at him expectantly.

"See something you like?" Harry questioned, grinning and winking at him.

Jaime's cheeks reddened and he turned away, looking to where Elia and the children slept.

"You woke up in time for breakfast though."

"You put me in the princess' bed?" Jaime whispered, his heart beating as he looked at the woman beside him.

"Elia said to put you in her bed and didn't take no for an answer when I asked about sleeping in another room," Harry remarked, throwing on a shirt and gesturing to Jaime's side of the bed. "Your armor and sword are on the bedside table. Besides, you were dead on your feet."

"Harry?"

Jaime turned to look at Rhaenys as the girl woke up, stretching and uncurling. Her eyes turned right to him and then up to Harry, who smiled down at her.

"And it wasn't just the princess that was sleeping with you. The future Queen was too," Harry added, shrugging. "Hey, Rhaenys. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes! I did!" Rhaenys exclaimed, burrowing into her mother and waking her up too. "Aegon did too but he's a baby."

"Babies don't always sleep well so appreciate it while you can," Harry said, grinning. His stomach growled and Rhaenys laughed at the noise, before getting out of bed. "I'll go tell someone to have food ready. And then I need more information. Elia..."

"Hmmm."

Jaime watched as Harry got up out of bed and walked around to Jaime's other side, reaching out to drop his hand on Elia's side. The princess had changed into a light shift after Jaime had fallen asleep, a light purple piece of fabric that looked comfortable. Her eyes opened, immediately going wide and then Elia breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Harry and Jaime.

"I had thought last night a dream," Elia whispered, her voice rough with sleep as she rubbed her eyes open. "I thought…"

"The king won't hurt anyone anymore," Harry said, kneeling down on one knee to be at eye level with her. "He's locked in a room."

Jaime slowly shuffled over to the edge of the bed and stood up, feeling fresh and rested enough to start the day. He hadn't slept this well since… before he had been sworn in as a knight of the kingsguard. He hadn't had a nightmare either, which he had had for the past two weeks. "I will go guard the king's room. Harry, will you guard Princess Elia and the children?"

"I will. Let us know if anything… happens," Harry said, narrowing his eyes in thought. "I can bring food your way too."

A knock on the door drew their attention and Harry walked over to open it a little, speaking to someone on the other side. Jaime recognized Varys' voice and his heart beat quickly at the thought that something else was amiss.

"What is it?" Elia questioned as she stood up and threw on a cloak.

"The westerlands are at our doorstep," Harry said, after closing the door and looking to Jaime. "Varys says your father is leading them."

Jaime stiffened and hurriedly threw on his clothes from yesterday, looking for his tunic and leggings. He was about to reach for his armor when his breastplate was handed to him by Harry, who looked at him with narrowed eyes, and then helped him put on the vambraces, pauldron, greaves, white cloak and armored boots. Rhaenys and Aegon watched as Jaime suited up, clapping when Jaime and Harry were done.

"You're a knight, right? Like code of chivalry and all that?"

"Yes, he is. Ser Jaime Lannister."

Another knock on the door came and Elia called out to come in. Two women came in and started to help her dress, brushing her hair and picking out some clothing. The women did a double take when they saw Jaime and Harry but otherwise didn't comment.

"I'll go to the walls and gates," Harry finally remarked, his shoulders curling tensely. "Make sure they're closed. Rhaenys will need to be on that throne when we finally let people in. Who were the leaders of this rebellion then? Who do I need to watch for?"

"Lord Robert Baratheon, Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Hoster Tully. The riverlands, the northerners, the valemen and the stormlands are all rebels," Elia explained. "This all started because my former husband stole Lyanna Stark and then my goodfather, the king, killed Rickard Stark and Brandon Stark."

"He called for the heads of Robert and Eddard too," Jaime added, buckling on his sword belt and sword at his waist as he opened the door. "Lord Arryn wasn't about to let that happen."

Harry nodded, throwing on his own clothes. "Robert and Eddard lived with Lord Arryn?"

"They were fostered in the Vale," Jaime explained, shrugging a little before walking out through the door.

Elia watched as he did, seeing the odd looking garments that Harry put on. Harry's chest wasn't that much like some of the Westerosi men she had seen before, more muscles and a few scars littered his body. Harry had woken up shirtless so she had seen the scar that was centered on his upper chest, the one that she did not know what kind of weapon had made it.

"Alright, so those are… the direwolf, the fish, the falcon and moon, and the stag, right?"

"Yes."

"Elia, where does Jaime's father stand?" Harry questioned, just as he joined him at the door.

"Lord Tywin has not joined either cause," Elia said, gathering up Aegon in her arms and getting him dressed. "King Aerys offended him many times though and offended his wife. I would recommend caution."

Rhaenys stood next to her mother, glancing up at Harry with wide eyes. "We'll be alright?"

"I won't let anyone hurt you or your mother or your brother," Harry said, kneeling down to look her in the eyes. "Your Grace."

Rhaenys frowned but nodded.

"You will sit on that throne by the end of this," Harry offered, holding out his hand. "We can shake on it."

Rhaenys blinked. "Shake?"

"That's not a thing here?" Harry asked, his lips twitching up into a small grin. "We do it back where I'm from. We shake our hands in greeting or to complete a deal."

Rhaenys stared at him and then held out her hand to place it in his. Harry shook their hands together, catching and holding her gaze. "I promise I will not let harm come to any of you."

"Be careful," Rhaenys whispered, watching as Harry stood back up and stepped through the doorway. "Mother, I'm scared."

Elia dropped down one arm to curl around her. "I'm scared too, sweetling. But we have two very good protectors now."

"Will Jaime be in my queensguard?"

Elia blinked and smiled a little. "Yes, I think so. You will be the first real queen on the Iron Throne, sweetling. You can have your pick of knights. I think Jaime will do and so will Arthur, Oswell and Gerold, wherever they are, if they are still alive."

"But will he still have fun with us? I like him."

"You are three years old, Rhaenys. You are allowed to have fun still," Elia remarked, smiling and combing through her hair with her fingers. "You will be Queen when you come of age and until then, Harry and I will be your voice."

* * *

Harry followed his nose to the kitchens, letting the head cook know that Princess Elia Martell and her children were awake. He let Varys know where he was going and mentioned that Elia and her children were heading for the throne room. He grabbed some food to go for himself and then ventured out of Maegor's Holdfast, grabbing his broom out of his trunk and his dragonhide armor and taking flight. As he gained altitude, he looked down at the city as he flew, noting landmarks in his mind.

He had briefly looked over a map of the city last night so he knew the Sept of Baelor when he saw it. It was a big, beautiful church that sat on Visenya's Hill, one of three hills in the city, and it shone in the early morning sun. A bell tower sat in each of the seven corners of the building and from what Elia had spoken of, it was for the Faith of the Seven, the main religion in Westeros.

It was definitely bigger than most churches back in England and Harry idly wondered who the seven gods were. As he flew on, he spotted the dragonpit, its ruins blackened by fire and smoke. He hovered above it for a good few minutes, imagining what it looked like before it had fallen. He had seen the dragon skulls in the throne room when he had landed here but he hadn't really gotten any information about their history from Elia, Varys or Jaime.

He wondered if there were still dragons in Westeros but then the sound of horns drew his attention and he flew on, making a note to get a look at history books if there were any. He knew that the Red Keep lay on Aegon's High Hill, having been named after Aegon I Targaryen. He flew onward, seeing the walls a few miles away from the Red Keep, and sped up, seeing the faint outline of an army.

Harry arrived at the walls of the city within ten minutes after he had left the Keep and hovered in the air above them while he took in the army that surrounded the city. He pulled on his armor while he looked, preferring to be safe rather than sorry. There were banners with a gold lion rearing on a red field flapping in the little currents of air and so many other banners. Three black dogs on a yellow field flew in one corner of the army while a flaming tree on grey flapped next to the lion banners.

The armies on the field looked to be in the thousands, men, horses and steel all looking at the walls. Harry's eyes narrowed and he glanced down at the walls, seeing that a lot of the wall and gate guards were yelling up at him. But he did see that the gates were closed and he breathed a sigh of relief at that. He circled into land right before one of the gates, miniaturized his broomstick, tucked it into a pocket and ran towards the group of men clustered at the gate.

The gate itself was made out of beautifully sculpted stone, with dragons made of stone littered on it. It kind of reminded him of the stone knights that Hogwarts had to protect it, making him remember McGonagall gleefully whispering the spell to bring them alive. There were people at the gate, screaming and yelling about wanting to get out of the city if it was going to be sacked. The guards were yelling and screaming back, pushing back the folk and wielding cudgels.

"You can't be here! Go back to your homes!"

"Captain!" Harry ran to the gatehouse, seeing the city watch and their golden cloaks arguing amongst each other. "Who's in charge here and what the fuck is going on?"

"Lord Tywin requests entrance into the city! He says he is here to ally with the king."

One of the older, more experienced men came forward, his golden cloak wrapping around him at a sudden burst of wind. "Name's Manly, of House Stokeworth. Who are you?"

"Harry Potter and an ally to Princess Elia Martell and to the future Queen. Do not let Lord Tywin and the westerland men enter the city. We don't know who they are fighting for."

Manly Stokeworth looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Future queen? Is King Aerys…"

"He is under house arrest. Bar the gates. If they want to lay siege to the city, then let them. House Tyrell and the Reach are on their way."

"We received a messenger from the king though. Grand Maester Pycelle and the king say to open the gates."

Harry stared at the man in front of him before glancing back at the Red Keep. "Do not open the gates unless it's me giving the command, understood?"

"You are not on the small council nor do you speak for the king."

Harry took a step closer to the man, the Commander of the City Watch, and silently conjured his patronus. Prongs leapt seemingly from his hand and galloped around the busy street, letting out a ghostly whinny. The gold cloaked men of the City Watch all froze and watched as the patronus wove around them and occasionally moved through them. Some drew their weapons and pointed them towards the ghostly deer while others were struck silent.

"I speak for the city and the queen when I say, _do not open the gates. _I'll send word when it's safe to. Put your archers up on the wall and get ready for a potential siege."

"Understood. Men, bar the gates!"

Harry watched as the gold cloaks all ran back to the gates and then turned around, facing the street folk who had come out of their home to gawk. Some were scantily clad while others had the look of mercenaries. He had flown over a whole street of blacksmiths and then a whole street of bakeries, which he presumed were richer than the streets he was looking at now.

The city also stunk, which Harry had been ignoring up until now. It stunk of manure, of blood and sex and feces and Harry wrinkled his nose, wondering if other cities in Westeros were like this. He could see sewers when he squinted so the advances had come that far but perhaps after this siege, or potential siege, he could think about what the cities in England had that this one did not.

He mounted his broom again and flew up to the top of the wall and looked out over the land again, seeing the lines of cavalry forming up and the archers digging in. Harry's eyes narrowed at the sight before he turned around and sped towards the Red Keep, wondering what had happened in the half hour he had been gone.

Elia blinked at Jaime, her heart beating double time, as she thought about what he had said. Varys stood next to her, his arms crossed and hidden by thick sleeves. Jaime was standing right in front of the doorway to the king's rooms, having sent a messenger for them.

"The king said to open the gates?" Elia questioned, looking between Varys and Jaime.

"The king called for his Hand after talking with Pycelle," Jaime said, sparing a glance to the door behind them. "Pycelle has since left, after Rossart entered. I meant to… The king has been…"

Elia raised an eyebrow at Jaime's hesitant words before she looked to Varys. "Did you recommend opening the gates?"

"No. I have sources amongst the westerlands and they all say Lord Tywin does not intend to side with the Targaryens. And Grand Maester Pycelle is a Lannister bastard, from some previous lord's brother."

"The king also ordered me to kill my father," Jaime added quietly, his skin pale and his eyes wide. "My father!"

"Varys, go find Maester Pycelle and bring him to the throne room," Elia remarked, taking a step towards Jaime as she did and reaching out to grab his hands between hers. He stared at her, his eyes going even wider, and then exhaled deeply. "And tell Harry when he comes back to come to us."

"Yes, your grace."

Elia watched as Varys left, his quiet footsteps unnerving her, before she turned to Jaime. "What was it the king ordered you to do? What weren't you saying in front of Varys?"

Jaime took another deep breath and then sighed. "The king has been talking to more pyromancers and they've been going in and out of the king's room. They've been talking for more than just a few days."

Elia stared at him, her heart falling into her stomach at the thought of what Jaime's words might mean. "Wisdom Rossart is still in there."

"Yes."

"King Aerys is going to light the whole city on fire," Elia whispered, clutching onto Jaime's hands and realizing that Jaime was holding onto hers as well.

Jaime nodded, a strangled groan leaving his throat. "What do I do? I can't… Thousands of people live in this city."

Elia winced. "Jaime, go guard my children. I will take care of this."

"Princess-"

"Call me Elia. We know each other well enough by now."

Jaime stared at her, his green eyes wide with fear and deep exhaustion. Elia released his hands and reached into her pocket for the tiny vial that Ashara had left her with. She missed her friend so much now but she straightened, meeting Jaime's eyes.

"My brother's not called the Red Viper for nothing," Elia murmured, her heart beating so hard that she half thought that Jaime would hear it.

Jaime continued to stare at her, his eyes wide in an entirely different reason. Mayhaps it was awe or worry or something but Elia ignored it, thinking on the possible consequences of her actions. "You would be a kingslayer."

"He was either going to die anyway or by his own actions," Elia said, her shoulders curling in tightly. "If Harry hadn't come when he had, Robert or Tywin would have done the deed. I am just hastening it and making sure no one else dies."

"You would have to poison the both of them," Jaime whispered, his eyes narrowing. "I will kill the rest of them after we put Rhaenys on the throne. Luck to you, Elia of Dorne."

Elia dipped her head in a nod and watched as Jaime walked away. A servant turned the corner of the hallway, bringing in a tray of tea and pastries. The older woman was trembling, Elia could see, as she walked towards her. Probably the result of Lord Tywin and the rest of the westerlands on their doorstep. Or having to take tea to a mad king.

"I'll take it into the king's rooms," Elia offered, holding out her hands for the tray.

"Thank you, your Grace. King Aerys is..."

"Difficult," Elia finished, taking the tea tray from the woman and knocking on the door. "Your Grace!"

"Go away, you Dornish whore! You're not needed here!"

Elia flinched, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door, seeing the blue, magical shielding that Harry had placed encompass her and then let her through. The magic felt like a warm, breath of life or like a hug from a loved one or a mother and it felt like Harry's magic did. Powerful and young, trained but wild at the same time. She remembered what Harry had said last night, seeing his green eyes flash at Elia's words of Rhaegar.

Remembered Harry's words that he would sit Rhaenys on the throne. Remembered the burn Jaime had gotten on his wrist after Aerys had burned his previous Hand alive, remembered his dull, pained green eyes. Remembered seeing Rhaella the morning after and helping the Queen dress and seeing her bruises. Rhaella had welcomed her into the family easily and had looked on her grandchildren with pleasure.

She looked at King Aerys and at Wisdom Rossart, at the two men who stood between her daughter sitting on the throne. Both men were glaring at her, like they thought she was inferior to them, like Dorne had not successfully resisted Targaryen rule for a hundred years. Like she was nothing to them. She plastered on a thin smile and prepared their tea, setting the tray on the table between the king and his hand and uncorked the vial, pouring in the poison that would bring King Aerys' rule to an end.

_Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken._

* * *

"What happened?"

Jaime turned to look at Harry as the man ran into the throne room, his eyes wide.

"I heard that the king ordered the gates open," Harry said, stopping right before Jaime and catching his eyes. "What happened?"

Jaime looked around the empty throne room, making sure that there was no one else in the hall. "The king and the Hand are going to light the city on fire. The pyromancers have a whole stash of wildfire."

Harry went pale, the color draining from his face. "There's got to be thousands of people in the city. Where's Elia?"

"She is…" Jaime took a deep breath. "Solving the problem."

Harry blinked, his eyes narrowing before widening quickly. "She's… poisoning the king?"

Jaime nodded and Harry cursed under his breath. "Is she in there alone with them?"

"The king didn't want me in there with him while he was planning. I figured it would look suspicious if I had gone in there with her."

"She'll still want someone to be with her when she's done," Harry muttered, reaching out to grab Jaime's hand, tight and secure. "Close your eyes."

Jaime stiffened at Harry's words, hearing the steel underneath.

"Sorry. It's alright. I'm just going to get us there faster," Harry whispered, relaxing his hold and drawing circles on Jaime's wrist with his thumb. Jaime let out the breath he was holding at the touch, sighing deeply. "Apparition is easy enough but you'll want to close your eyes."

Jaime nodded and closed his eyes. Harry hummed under his breath and then Jaime felt a tug on his waist, feeling Harry elbow his side a minute later. He opened his eyes and they were in the hallway of Maegor's Holdfast, right in front of the king's room. Jaime dropped his hand to the sword at his waist and he saw Harry palm a piece of wood, the same wood that he had held to the king's forehead to put him to sleep.

"Huh."

Jaime raised an eyebrow and Harry's lips twitched up into an amused grin. "I tend to land on my butt usually. Maybe you kept me standing."

Jaime's heart skipped a beat at Harry's look and then the door opened. Princess Elia Martell walked out, her dark eyes narrowed and her mouth tight.

"Elia?"

Harry took a step closer to Elia, who stared at them both before letting out a gasping breath. "Were you…"

Elia sucked in a strangled breath, her knees trembling, and took a step before they gave out. Both Jaime and Harry caught her, their arms wrapping around her loosely enough that they weren't constricting. Jaime's mail armor was bulky but he fit an arm around her while Harry's arm was at her back, rubbing circles. Jaime's white cloak ended up halfway around Elia and she grasped it in her hands, pondering her actions.

"You're alright," Harry whispered. "We're all alright."

"You forget my father," Jaime murmured.

"We'll handle him," Elia said quietly, her voice faint. "I just killed the king and his Hand."

"Did they drink it?"

"Yes."

"Well… I'll have to remember to never get on your bad side," Harry muttered. "If you have easy access to poison."

Elia snorted and burrowed into their arms. "You would like my brother. The Red Viper of Dorne."

"I've heard some great things of Dorne," Harry whispered as they held onto each other.

"My people would not think twice of the three of us," Elia remarked quietly, a hint of contented pleasure to her voice.

Jaime stiffened and pulled away, looking at them with wide green eyes. "I…"

"Does the rest of Westeros look poorly on people who like both men and women?" Harry questioned, looking between them. "Where I'm from, people are slowly starting to become accustomed to it. None of my friends thought twice of me for liking both men and women."

"My brother likes both men and women," Elia answered quietly before standing up. "But now is not the time. We must wait for the Reach and the rest of Westeros before finding out what this means to us."

"You are completely correct," Harry said, shrugging and running a hand through his hair. "Let's sit your daughter on the throne. The throne that actually looks really uncomfortable but whatever works for you, works for me."

Elia grinned and let out a surprised laugh.

* * *

Lord Mace Tyrell led the way into the city, his lords following him and their bannermen. Lord Randyll Tarly rode next to him, occasionally looking at Mace with narrowed eyes. The Targaryen banners flew from every tower and flew from the Red Keep as they rode through the city. The bells rang throughout the city, proclaiming the death of the king.

Behind the lords of the Reach rode the lords of the riverlands, the north and the Valemen. Some of the stormlanders rode with them but none of the Baratheons were in the line, having been detained by the Goldcloaks. Robert Baratheon had been swiftly marched to the black cells on arrival to King's Landing, being taken captive by Lord Randyll Tarly. The lines of northmen, valemen and rivermen were being watched by goldcloaks and Reachmen, with bows on them at every point.

As they reached the Red Keep, everyone dismounted from their horses and Lord Mace Tyrell and Lord Randyll Tarly walked into the throne room first. Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Eddard Stark and Ser Brynden Tully walked in behind them, glancing at the man who stood in the doorway. The man had dark, shaggy hair and bright green eyes, making Ned think he was half Baratheon and half Lannister.

The scar on his forehead drew more than a few looks but his words called their attention more. He looked to be in his early twenties and his eyes were of a hardened fighter, who expected to be obeyed.

"Lords. I welcome you to the Red Keep. I expect you to keep your swords at your waist and not in your hands in the throne room. I expect you are weary after your travels and the fighting. I expect you have questions."

The man then turned around and walked into the throne room. Ned saw a hint of the Iron Throne, wondered how Brandon and Rickard last moments were, and followed the lords in front of him. Jon Arryn and Brynden Tully walked alongside him while Howland Reed walked behind him, a bannermen of the north.

As the men in front of him stopped, Ned shuffled around to get a look at who sat the throne, his eyes widening at the sight.

Princess Elia Martell, Lord Varys and the strange man all stood in front of the throne. Elia held her one year old son in her arms, cradling him and rubbing his back. Ser Jaime Lannister stood next to the throne and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen sat on the throne. A three year old girl sat on the throne.

"A girl? The reign of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not last long and did not end well," Lord Tarly spoke.

"She's only three years old!"

"You wait 13 years or you wait 15 years," the strange man spoke. "She is the new Queen on the Iron Throne. Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, the First of Her Name."

"I name Harry Hand of the Queen," Rhaenys spoke, her eyes wide but her voice firm. "He will be my voice and my mother will be Queen Regent. I am Prince Rhaegar's first born child and I will rule like the sixteen Targaryen kings have done since Aegon the Dragon."

Ned stared at their new queen, his eyes going wide as he exchanged looks with Howland.

All of the lords began to squabble amongst each other, chaos and uncertainty filling the room.

"Ser Jaime Lannister will be the first knight of my queensguard," Rhaenys continued, her purple eyes flashing at the lords beneath her.

The volume of voices rose and Rhaenys' eyes narrowed further. The roar of a dragon filled the hall and everyone fell silent. The phantom of a dragon rose, its wings outstretched as it hovered over the Iron Throne. The ghostly black dragon lowered its' black neck down and glared down at the men and then roared again before vanishing.

"Targaryens have ruled for 283 years and will continue to do so," Rhaenys said, her voice quivering a little before growing steady. "My lords, bend the knee or face the consequences."

As one, nearly every lord knelt and bent the knee to their three year old queen. Ned hesitated before kneeling as well, seeing not a single man still standing. He glanced at the skulls of long ago dragons and was reminded of Balerion, Vhagar and Meraxes, who brought down 6 out of the seven kingdoms easily. King Torrhen Stark bent the knee to King Aegon Targaryen and so Ned did to a Targaryen Queen.

"Leave your bannermen outside the walls and meet with us," the strange man spoke, looking down at all of them. "Let us speak of peace tomorrow morning."

* * *

"Ser Barristan! I am glad to see you alive," Elia exclaimed, later, much later. Most of the lords and their men were now living in tents outside the city walls while the lords of great houses had taken rooms within the city. Harry stood next to her while Jaime was guarding Rhaenys.

The old, grizzled knight walked up to her on crutches and knelt before her. "I am sorry to have failed you, your grace. Your husband fought well."

"Barristan, you did not fail Rhaegar. Whatever you did, I do not consider you to have failed. You came back alive." Elia held out a hand to the man and helped him up, catching his eyes as he stood.

"Thank you, your Grace. I would be delighted if I could serve in your daughter's queensguard," Barristan remarked quietly. "I see you have a new ally as well."

"Harry Potter, yes. He is Rhaenys' Hand and will speak for the both of us," Elia answered. "He is… powerful."

"Aye. That much is certain," Barristan said, glancing to the man in question.

"The dragon was a bit much," Elia commented, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug.

"It helped the lords see reason," Harry offered, grinning a little. "Besides, if I understand things correctly, Westeros did have dragons at some point."

"They did," Barristan replied. "They have died out though."

"I'm pretty sure I can do something about that," Harry spoke, his eyes narrowing. "We are about to have a busy few days though. I will need all the dragon lore you have available."

Elia's eyes widened. "You mean…"

"Rhaenys will need all the help she can get," Harry said, his eyes going soft as he turned to look at their queen. "I suspect that Lords Mace Tyrell and Randyll Tarly will want things in return for fighting for the Targaryens and if those remarks about Rhaenyra were true… Dragons will come in handy, if only to intimidate. Maybe I'll get Rhaenys and Aegon dragon eggs for a birthday gift. Oooh… I can't wait to explore this world."

"You are Hand of the Queen, Harry," Elia reminded him.

"Yes, yes, I am. I can still explore this city and read all the books on dragon lore here," Harry said. "I'm here for as long as Rhaenys needs me."

Elia saw Harry wink at her before he walked back over to talk with the lords. She sighed as she watched her daughter, the first real queen of Westeros, on the iron throne. Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, the First of Her Name. Princess Elia Martell, Queen Regent. A new dawn was rising on a new reign and it looked peaceful.


End file.
